


Fealty

by shadoedseptmbr



Series: Kirkwall Year One [2]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, Red Iron, rogues - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25716670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadoedseptmbr/pseuds/shadoedseptmbr
Summary: Joining the Red Iron, learning to be simple.
Series: Kirkwall Year One [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/296681
Kudos: 3





	Fealty

The first time- _after_ they are bought and paid for- Meeran saunters in, glances around and nods when his second hands him the papers they were hired to collect. “Clean, fast. Good work.” He says it with a satisfied nod in her direction and Hawke shrugs and nods back, out of reflex.

The next time, the job goes wrong but she gets her mark. Meeran comes in swearing; slicing their performance into neat eviscerations until he comes to her and shakes his head. “Except for the new kid. You did fine.” She shrugs again but the crew agrees and she smiles a little when they slap her back and talk about beginner’s luck.

Another job. This time there are traps and she recognizes the trigger. What might have been a complete loss is instead a win and this time he claps his hand on her shoulder and she grins at him out of surprise. The crew spots her a drink at their local, after she walks Bethany home. 

Once there was a mage. Hawke takes them out first with a carefully aimed, magebaned coated blade from behind. Bethany’s barriers are weak in the same pattern. He hands her back the dagger by the red leather wrapped hilt and buys her first drink and they invite her to the diamond back game in the back room.

The next job goes so  _ sodding _ wrong, but Bethany is home with Mother and safe, so she drags her shadows up and continues. Alone. The mark is still bleeding out at her feet when Meeran stalks in. He looks at her blank face and grimaces. “This ain’t your fault, Hawke. You got the job done. Good one, alright?” He waits until she looks up at him before he continues, “Let’s get the Reds picked up and get gone, yeah?” He gets her a drink and patches up the wrenched wrist and slashed ribcage with surprisingly deft, gentle hands. She bunks in the back room when he points her to the cot.

She asks to go alone next time he sets up a mark and he shrugs.

The room is neat, the night is quiet and her job is lying in his bed when Meeran collects her and the cargo. “You are a Maker damned artist, kid,” he tells her as she cleans her dagger on the tapestry bed hangings and she looks up at him with clear eyes and a crooked grin. 

“Yeah, I am, aren’t I?”


End file.
